Explosive Party Pooping

The question is do we celebrate holidays out of need, out of deep respect for the meaning of that special day, or just tired old habit.

I was in bed watching a little TV when loud concussions began to shake the heavy plaster walls.  WTF? Mayhem? Invasion? Oh, yeah, 4th of July fireworks.

I switched the channel momentarily and caught a moment of Macy’s 4th of July show. I got a load of Jewel doing a strange, blue-eyed soul version of God Bless America.

She seemed to be going for Tina Turner’s I’ve Been Loving You Too Long routine.

No, Jewel wasn’t moving much. No strong thighs a tremble, not nearly the full womanly emotion of Tina, but from the neck up Jewel fluttered her thin fingers around the microphone, caressing it like a . . . well you know,  and poured forth an oddly hemmed-in, yet pornorific version of GBA. This was not Kate Smith’s straightforward patriotism. Jewel seemed more about BJs for all patriots.

I like it when Ike  and Tina do it. Jewel was a little scary.

I switched over to the Boston Pops 4th  affair. I’m always ready for the joint to break out in a drunken mass of hooliganism as I watch people on the grass there. Neil Diamond was thrilling the audience.

Let me say that I have admired the work of Neil Diamond, at times, over the course my life. I always respect motivated, hard working musicians. I’ll even admit that on first site (in the 60s on Where the Action Is) I found him to possess a certain degree of animal magnetism.

“Melinda was mine ’til the time that I saw her holding Jim, lovin’ him . . .” great voice, cute nose.

Pretty cool customer back then.

Saturday night at the Boston Pops he was engaged in some very stiff Elvis choreography. I guess he’s been doing that for a while but it was weird to see. At one point he made a really scrunched up passion/pain face.

I was well aware that many people spent the day celebrating, roasting corn, chicken, burgers, guzzling beverages and breaking their routine. At least breaking their routine to take a routine break.

Frank and I ate cherries and watched Semi-Pro a really funny Will Ferrell nod to the 70s, that era of overt sexism and short shorts on the basketball court

Celebrating the 4th of July by eating, drinking and spending a whole lot of money on explosives  strikes me as kinda weird.  I know this is an odd position to take and I’m not saying anyone else has to feel that way.

I imagine that if one does not have air conditioning one might want to sit in the shade near a body of water and drink cool beverages. Back in the day, before TV, aerial explosives were really big entertainment. They still are, unless you are a veteran with PTSD or an animal that can’t quite glean the meaning of a special day to recall our illustrious past.

I think that blowing things up, unless absolutely necessary, is stupid. I love glitter and fireworks are like sky glitter but so are stars and they shine every night.

Fireworks like anything that explodes carry the risk of fire, injury and destruction of some sort.

Maybe I want too much. I like everday to be a celebration of life and love and history. Each day is special. I don’t want to be forced to observe anything, in any particular way, or to do it by rote. I like layers of meaning and have a real respect authentic flow.

I like a complex 4th like the one Dave Alvin wrote about:

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